Seven times never a fool
by Minnionette
Summary: Since Ms. Zabini had been widowed seven times – each as strange as the last – she was no stranger to the backstabbing, diabolical lies that followed her through every social circle she graced.


**NOTES**: I am working on Chapter 19 of Water Aerobics. It's just that I'm having trouble with the whole Quidditch scene. I looked through the other books for some inspiration, and saw that one scene in Book Six where Slughorn mentions Blaise's mother, and then this plot bunny got into my head and made a nest.

I don't know what Ms. Zabini's full name is. Canon/Rowling interviews have never exposed anything. I'm using the name, Aurelia, from Water Aerobics because it's Latin for golden, whereas her son's name of Blaise is (in my mind) closely related to blaze, and that's associated with fire. (I could have gone another route, in which I decided Cecelia, meaning blind, would have greatly matched Blaise, meaning stutter.)

...

Anyway, that was just to tell people that Aurelia is not Ms. Zabini's canon name. And this Ms. Zabini may or may or may not be a professional dominatrix, like she is in Water Aerobics.

* * *

When one is young, beautiful, and rich, rumors often tend to be unfavorable when jealous tongues wagged, but when one has also widowed seven times – the gossipmongers become downright vicious. And since Aurelia Zabini had been widowed seven times – each as strange as the last – she was no stranger to the backstabbing, diabolical lies that followed her through every social circle she graced.

Truth be told (although no one _listened_), the ends of her seven rich husbands had all been bizarre and strange accidents.

Yes, her first husband _had_ been in the twilight of his waning years when they married, but it was certainly no fault of hers that the poor dear's heart simply could not cope with the strain of multiple orgasms. (At least, no fault of her own in so much as it couldn't be when she was, admittedly, a bit of a nymphomaniac. In that respect, the responsibility of her husband's death did weigh ever so slightly on her conscience.) Aurelia consoled her broken heart with the knowledge that the old dear had passed on with a very satisfied smile on his wrinkled face, no doubt thinking it was worth every single sickle of his enermous fortune.

The second and third husbands had much in common in that they both enjoyed extreme sports (of which they could easily afford with their wealth), which carried inherent risks all of its own. Honestly, _everyone_ knew that they were such adrenaline junkies. Even the gossipmongers recognized what a suicidal stupid idea it was when the second husband decided to be the first (and, to date, the _only_) wizard to air-surf with a pair of hippogriffs. And when the third husband died rather obscenely in a daredevil stunt involving an adult blast-ended skrewt, two billy goats of the gruff kind, and a veela in heat, Aurelia swore off ever marrying anymore Gryffindors . Especially when she was left four months pregnant with no father in sight.

The fourth husband had been a kind, lovable sweetheart who believed in helping orphaned and homeless Muggles, and regularly assisted in soup kitchens and clothing drives. But even being a wizard didn't save him from a tragic end of being stabbed by a drug-addicted Muggle armed with a potato peeler and then crushed beneath a small mountain of turnips. (Blaise had never been able to stomach turnips afterward. Which was just as well, because Aurelia didn't think they were an important vegetable for anyone's diet.)

About that time, Aurelia was beginning to realize she might be cursed to be a black widow – tragically destined to have the men she loved and married fall prey to Fate's insidious and foul plots.

Or, perhaps, it was a _fowl_ plot, as the death of her fifth husband had involved a flock of territorial swans. Dear Blaise developed a severe phobia of white birds as he witnessed his step-father's passing. It was about that time that Aurelia started taking him to group therapy – he did so well in the company of others, although the presence of one Luna Lovegood rather alarmed her.

Then again, Aurelia always knew that beneath those pristine feathers and gracefully-shaped head is a bloodthirsty and savage mind that easily rivaled any Dark Lord _she_ could remember. Really, What's-His-Name ought to have studied the ways of the swan if he wanted to succeed at warfare. Well, perhaps it _was_ best for mankind that he hadn't.

Husband number six had something husbands one through five lacked, and that was intelligence. The man had been as sharp as a whip, had a wicked sense of humor, and treated her and Blaise so sweetly and thoughtfully. Alas, intelligence is _not _guarenteed to go hand-in-hand with common sense, and the poor man didn't seem to realize that challenging Severus Snape to a potions contest was a very dumb idea. Aurelia was, actually, quite surprised that Snape somehow managed to drag his own broken and tainted body from the mess in time to survive the multicolored explosion that turned everything very pink. (And, privately, she admitted that even greater men than her husband have lost brutal contests to Severus Snape. And Snape hadn't _exactly_ walked away from the mess, now had he? She still had those pictures of a rose-colored Snape just waiting for the day she finally chose to blackmail him. After she dosed herself with every single antidote known to man, of course.)

Aurelia's seventh husband was not a husband at all, and certainly didn't die. It was only after the wedding that Aurelia learned that Fred was actually a clever crossdressing Winifred with some serious gender identity issues. The divorce was very quiet and the settlement quite nice, and since "Fred" decided to settle in a nudist colony somewhere in Jamaica (which Aurelia never quite understood, because didn't nudity defeat the entire purpose of crossdressing in the first place?) and was never seen again, everyone simply assumed – based on her other six marriages – that Aurelia was once again widowed. Aurelia left the gossipmongers to their theories and conspiracies, since she felt that she had, indeed, lost a husband.

"I really ought to join a convent," she told Blaise late one afternoon during the Christmas break from his sixth year at Hogwarts.

Blaise looked sideways at her. "Mum, are you feeling all right?"

"Just nostalgic, my darling. This time of year, I'm always thinking of your father and the others."

"Good. Because you know you wouldn't do very well." Blaise considered her for a moment. "For one thing, you have to take vows of chastity."

Aurelia shuddered at the very idea. And then her mind wandered down a well-worn avenue: just who _could_ survive being married to her? Perhaps she ought to reconsider the whole matter of robbing the cradle. Admittedly, that Potter boy was young enough to be her son and a Gryffindor, but she understood that he had a remarkable talent in repeatedly dodging death. Aurelia laughed at herself.

Well, considering the current state of her reputation and the fates of her seven other husbands, what was the worst that could happen?

*\^_^/*

Blaise sighed as he listened to his mother laughing, and felt sorry for the poor sap on whom she had just aimed her ambitions. In the end, he didn't really care _who _she went after, just so long as it wasn't another Winifred. Or Luna Lovegood's father. (He had _seen _the way his mother eyed the man duing group therapy!)


End file.
